Yes. I have a sponsor child. Do I write to him? Not as often as I should. Do I pray for him? Not as often as I should. Do I consider his plight against the backdrop of my own western materialism, never having need for anything?
Sponsor children can become like fashion accessories for the western family. “We have three!” you may boast to your friends as you scour their refrigerator door. It gives us a sense of “We’re doing the world a favour here.” That $40 a month may mean you miss out on a couple of extra latte’s each week but you won’t need to question whether dinner will be served tonight.
I have this picture on my wall at home. It’s there for a number of reasons but the main one is to remind me that I’m blessed. More than that though, it reminds me that I have an obligation. An obligation to remember that this little life could have been mine, or worse – the life of my child. If that were me I would’ve desperately wanted someone to reach out and help me – not just take a photo of my plight to sell to some newspaper.
Kevin Carter picked up a Pullitzer prize for photojournalism in 1994. Read his story [link since removed].





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